Help Write The World's Worst Novel

"You should know that we have kept our eyes on this school for quite some time." chief Inspector Mondale said. He was about to reveal lots of top secret information for no apparent reason other then that that sexy fox Clutterbuck was standing there.
"Ever since that christmas party last year I have known there were aliens amongst us." Miss Thripps shrieked and and slapped her hands against her face, nearly knocking herself out... again. "Relax, Ma'am.. .or Sir, or whatever. I am not talking about Mexican androgyns crossing our borders illegally in order to infiltrate School in our beloved country."
The illegal Mexican androgyn expelled her breath in a relieved sigh, but nobody paid anymore attention to her. Apart from Felicity, who let out a nervous giggle. But then, the girl always giggled.
"No, I'm talking about real aliens. Aliens from outer space, bent on taking over the schools in our beloved country so they can indoctrinate their fragile minds. We have carefully checked every school for infiltrators and spies... And we found one here!"
In the dramatic pause that ensued, all fell silent and kept their attention rivetted on the inspector. Mondale carefully stroke his goatee, convinced as ever this made him look even more important and sagelike. He straightened his back and sucked his ever so slightly potbelly in. That was not a very wise move, since his pants now weren't held up by his belly anymore, and dropped to his feet, revealing the summer slip in a delicate peach shade which complimented his skin tones.
He blushed fiercely and quickly squatted to hoist his pants back up. Desperate for a distraction he yelled. "It's the beancounter!"

Everyone pointed at Ralph, except Felicity, who pointed at the rats on the floor. "Look, arctic terns!" she cried. Everyone ignored her.

"Wh-what, it wasn't me, I was counting the beans like I always do, and that foul temptress Figsby. I mean, Clutterbuck, came onto me - or at least that's how I always pictured it - and then there was this loud noise and I almost tripped over Mr. Tennis here."

"Speaking of that, could someone finally untie me?" asked Tennis, who was still sitting on the floor of the cafeteria storage closet, with Mrs. Figsby's panties on his head. He had gotten somewhat used to the aroma of spoiled milk and violets and realized that it was making him a bit lightheaded.

"There's a dear." cooed Mrs. Tennis, supervising Miss Thripps, who was untying Mr. Tennis. "Oh, drat, your wrists are a bit chafed. You should apply some lubricant."

Mr. Ball quickly whipped out a tube of Admiral Snerdwaffle's Condensed Lubricating Creme and deftly administered it to Mr. Tennis's wrists. "I see you know your way around a tube of Admiral Snerdwaffle's Condensed Lubricating Creme." smiled Mrs. Tennis.

"And not just that, I can also play Chinese Checkers in Greek." boasted Mr. Ball, expertly replacing the cap of the tube of Admiral Snerdwaffle's Condensed Lubricating Creme with his teeth.

Suddenly, there was a bright flash in the sky and everyone looked up but, of course, Felicity, who was playing with the rats and listening to their rodentlike conversations.

It's true that the legally blind often exhibit heightened senses elsewhere, and Felicity was an expert listener or rather hearer as she rarely paid any actual attention to anything. But this was something more. It was rats, and they were discussing aliens and what they had heard from the listening device implanted in a most peculiar place.

No one noticed that Truthers wasn't around, and that was the way he wanted it. He peeked around the corner, watching the group, wondering what they were talking about. He also took the opportunity to sneek some uninterupted looks at Ralph's tight little butt.
He had a bottle of vodka in one hand, and an open can of pea soup in the other. His plan was to consume large amounts of both and spend the evening locked in his office, counting the spilled beans he'd picked up and thinking of sheep. He wasn't sure why he wanted to think of sheep, but he had the urge to. Maybe it was the vodka. Maybe it was something else.
When he saw Mr. Tennis, untied for the first time since that fatefull game of checkers the night before, he stopped in mid-thought. What's he doing free? And how much does he remember? Does he know?
What Truthers was worried about Mr. Tennis knowing is unknown, but is assumed by modern physicists to have something to do with Florence Nightingale.
Without realizing it, Truthers spilled a drop of soup on his shoe, which a rat promptly took notice of and began to eat. When some vodka spilled, the rat got drunk and began to swear at Truthers, but he didn't hear. He was distracted by the sudden burst of light in the sky.

"Captain Tail-ler Sir, please come in!"
At the same time, another squeaker started .. well... squeaking.
"Ensign Whiskbone for Captain Tail-ler with an update!"
And to top it all of, the Hottail went off as well. Tail-ler, content as ever in his command centre, suddenly had to scramble to handle all calls. The Hottail had priority of course.
"Supreme Biter Cheesedip! You squeaked, sir?"
"Yes Captain. We have critical information, straight from our brethren posted on the Hubble. You know about our covert-op there, right?"
"Yes, Supreme Biter."
"Very good. Well, as you well know, it has been send up there for the purpose of monitoring planet X. Well, they report that those ships of them, they call them Yibberclaw or something like that, are coming this way. Our guess is they are attacking your command centre, based on the ramblings of that silly cheeseprovider (the somewhat offensive name reserved for humans) Mondale. Why can't they just stick to what they are good at, providing us with food?"
Captain Tail-ler was desperate to answer the other squeakers, however, so he interrupted the Supreme Biter.
"I'm terribly sorry sir, but I will need to deploy and command the teams if the ex-ians are attacking (a most convenient shorthand, considering the aliens actually originated on planet X). I hereby ask your permission to assume direct command!"
"Very well, Tail-ler. Keep your tail wrapped around the hottail for easy access though. We need to keep in touch."
Tail-ler was already talking to Whiskbone.
"Captain Tail-ler sir! It pleases me to report to you we have completed our GIMP(Gratuitous Intercepter of Malevolent Planetbounders) sir!"
Captain Tail-ler was very pleased with this sudden stroke of luck, never realizing that the fact the GIMP was done after 30 eons of trial and error at the very moment of an inbound invasion strongly hinted at a Deus Ex Machina breach of the Fourth wall provided by a lazy writer.
He quickly scurried over to the last squeaker. "Captain Tail-ler here!"
"Strike team Alpha reporting from the cafeteria, Sir! Five of our troops are diverting the attention of the Cheeseprovs, sir. The other 12 have been situated around the estimated area of impact. The bright light flared about two minutes ago, so the exians must be getting close, sir!
Oh, by the way, our cover has been compromised. Apparently, one of the Cheeseprovs, a silly female named Dortmunder, has realized we can talk. What are your orders, oh Captain my Captain?"
"Sit tight, corporal. We will try to stop them in mid air with a GIMP. Maintain Predator-alert status, however."
"Very well, Sir!"
The captain grabbed the other squeaker and yelled out: "Fire the GIMP now!"
The hottail flared, and Tail-ler suddenly realized what he said. "Sorry, Supreme Biter. I didn't mean you, Sir, but another gimp."

Meanwhile, on another plane in a universe not dissimilar to ours, a powerful sorcerer named Wundel was watching events unfold in his crystal ball. He had recently learned how to bridge the dimensional void, and observe that which was taking place in other universes. This was an art that he learned from a sorceress named Yenn, who was powerful enough in her own right but not quite as powerful as Wundel. Don't get me wrong, she could hold her own in a magic fight, and could take most of the magic users in the known realms, but Wundel was, on a scale of all things, slightly more powerful than Yenn. They were almost equals, but not quite. Close, but not close enough that I can talk about them as being equal. Thus, the distinction.
This was universe ruled by steel and swords, by magic and mystical creatures. So, all things considered, it is dissimilar to ours. But, Wundel started out as a good sorcerer. He was responsible for bringing up the young prince Humdinger when he was but a lad acending to the throne, after the King had taken ill and entrusted the boy to his most trusted advisor, Wundel. After the lad became old enough to take the throne, though, he banished the sorcerer after finding him in the royal stables having his way with the royal flock and two elves. This made Wundel mad, and he left the castle, swearing one day he'd come back and get them all.
But all that aside, Wundel was fascinated by the images he saw in the ball. He could clearly understand their speech, since it was not dissimilar to his own. What puzzled him was not the talking rats, or the aliens, or any of the events unfolding before him. What made him stroke his great beard with wonder was the ball gag. He couldn't figure out what it was, but he knew he had to have one. That could increase my magic a hundred fold, he thought, greatly overestimating the value of a ball gag and mistaking it for who-knows-what.
He raised his hands and began to chant a summoning spell, in the hopes of reaching across the endless void to that object and bringing it to him.
"Hermoved linews piotron!"
He noticed the ball gag began to quiver where it lay. It was working!
"HERMOVED LINEWS POITRON!" he cried louder, focusing his energies on the object. It began to spin in place, and he saw several of the rats turn toward it, wondering what was happening. He nearly had it - he could feel it! One more push should do it!
"HERMOVED LIN-" At that moment, the new king's men found where he was hiding, and slew him as he concentrated on his own doings. He fell in a pool of his own blood, never knowing what happened.
At the moment he died, a great dimensional void opened up, a rift between that world and our own, where things were getting interesting. Two of the king's knights were sucked in, dragged off to wherever destiny took them. The remaining knights watched in awe as the void sealed shut. The men rushed over to the crystal ball to see if they could see where their fellow men had gone.
But then a dragon and several other mythical creatures showed up and ate them. The elves danced and sang, the dwarves carved stone, and life went on pretty much as normal for everyone else.
Except those two knights.
More on them later.

Wundel was resurrected by the good witch, Florence Nightingale. "Henceforth you will be called 'Wandel' and will appear on my behalf when someone invokes my sacred name," she proclaimed.

Figby still believed she had the situation firmly under control. Even if she knew the faintest glimmer of the two dimension hopping knights, the army of inbound aliens or the army of rats in front of her feet, she wouldn't let such details deter her in her plan. Indeed, she didn't let those details deter her in her plan, because she didn't know about them at all.

What she did know was that her former companion in evil, Mondale, an idiot if she ever saw one, was hatching irrelevant story lines in front of her. Thereby, he was clearly establishing himself as an arch enemy. Which could not be, of course, since she had already claimed that part, and no archenemy could ever work with together with someone. Well, some did, she remembered from the James Bond movies, but then again, in the end, they all died, didn't they? So her path was clear. She had to get rid of that dolt.

She needed a distraction, however. And, since she despised that horrible little pervert Ralph anyways, her course seemed clear.
"Oh my God, look at Ralph! He's... he's changing!"

Once again, everybody present looked at Ralph. Who blushed fiercely, and curled himself into a fetal position. Felicity giggled once again and commented: "Ooh, look little ratties, Mount Rushmore is collapsing!"

Meanwhile Figby, or Clutterbuck as she was known to Mondale, swung the rolling pin with all her (not unsignificant) might, and thwacked the poor Mondale solidly on the head. The last sound he uttered for the next three hours was something that sounded suspiciously much, but not quite like, the Pytherawquerian phrase: "I have inserted two of my toes in my left nostril." Which is decidedly odd, since all the world knows Pytherawquerians only had one centre nostril. Oh well.

Felicity became even more disoriented than usual. She stopped giggling and started to feel a little scared. She cried out: "Holy Florence Nightingale!"

The sorcerer Wandel appeared in a burst of light.

Which light attracted Felicity to its flaming brightness which shone out alluringly and she approached the bar where the amber nectar is dispensed.

"Excuse me", she said,gazing alluringly into the barman's limpid pools of desperation,are you the landlord?"

"No Madam,I am not the landlord", Wandel replied lasciviously.

Felicity ran her long,fine and tender fingers through his hair alluringly and said really alluringly, "Is the landlord available for me to have a quiet word with on the QT so to speak?"

"I'm afraid he's not Madame at the moment.He's mending a puncture on the front wheel of his bike due to his having cycled through an intersection strewn with shards of glass from a slight accident at the lights which had occured earlier and which he had not been alerted to by the traffic reports on Radio 2".

She ran her alluring fingers through his hair suggestively and said,"Are you in charge then you sexy beast?

"I suppose you might say that",Wandel wittily replied.

She stroked his cheeks alluringly and placing her first and second fingers in his mouth and moved them back and forth not only alluringly but with distinct promise and putting on her most alluring voice production technique which she had learned from a long history of soap opera watching and gazing alluringly into his eyes breathed breathlessly and as alluringly as alluring gets, "could you see your way to giving him a message then?"

"Oh yes Madam", Wandel replied,wagging his buttocks from side to side as fast as he could manage it.

"Tell him", she said alluringly,"There is no toilet paper in the ladies".

The sorcerer realized there was nothing he could do to help Felicity. There was another flash of light. The witch Florence Nightingale pulled Wandel back through the dimensional void.

"That was pitiful," Florence said to Wandel. "I was ashamed to have witnessed that. Do you intend to travel through dimensions again?"

"I will need to reconsider working as your partner, honorable witch." Having finished his whimpering apology, Wandel disappeared.

This bothered Truthers to no end. Oh, he was watching everything unfold all right. Watching like a hawk, or perhaps a sparrow, but certainly watching better than Felicity. Then again, a bat could watch better than Felicity.

And so it began. The light flashed, the rats looked up in horror while the ball gag quivered of its own accord and pretty soon the distinct sound of Barry Manilow music began. Everyone looked queasy as the strains of "Mandy" swelled and echoed throughout St. Egbert's School for Wayward and Sometimes Sassy Young Girls.

Ralph curled into a fetal position on the floor. Partly this was to make him feel better, partly to drown out "Mandy" and partly to get closer to Mrs. Figsby's panties, which had dropped on the floor and were being slowly moved out of sight by a couple of rats.

"Supreme Biter Cheesedip!" squeaked Ensign Whiskbone, in a voice that only Felicity could hear and, to Ralph, sounded like bongos, "We have the sacred garment!"

"Yes!" roared Captain Tail-ler, sounding like a rattish version of Ed McMahon.

"Bring it here." commanded the Supreme Biter Cheesedip. The other rats complied. Once they had finished, the Supreme Biter Cheesedip waved them away with a saucy swish of his tail. "At last, the power is mine! This will power our ultimate weapon nicely."

"No!" screamed Felicity, lunging for the panties but instead ending up with her head buried in Mr. Tennis's underarm. From his underarm, they could hear her say, in muffled tones, "Mmmfpff mpppffiff."

"What was that, Miss Dortmunder?" inquired Miss Thripps, who was gazing admiringly at Mr. Ball but was able, for a moment, to catch herself and remember where she was.

"I said, 'Mmmfpff mpppffiff.'" snapped Felicity, untangling herself from Mr. Tennis's underarm, which smelled of sour pickles and dandruff shampoo.

"Oh yes, that's what they want you to think." mused Mondale. "It's all in the plans."

"Yes, the plans." agreed Figsby. "Defensive Maneuver Clutterbuck Seventeen!" she yelled, jumping in place and raising her arms menacingly at the rest of the group.

The light in the sky reappeared and Mrs. Tennis fainted, landing squarely on top of Ralph with a thud.

"What was that?" said the Superintendant of Works cocking his ear and looking alert like a ferret with his head sticking out of the gamekeeper's pocket in his Barbour All-Weather Gamekeeper's Jacket (Only £129.99 while stocks last and available at most reputable Hunting,Shooting and Fishing Stores.)

"What was what?" his secretary replied from under the desk.

"I heard an unusual noise" he said.

"What sort of noise? she replied listening attentively like a dog when it hears its master shake the box of Woffles.

"A thud",he said. "Like a thudding noise. From upstairs".

"What sort of thud?" his secretary replied becoming concerned.

"A bit like the thud the sentry's body made when Spendius pushed it over the retaining wall of the aqueduct after he had silently slipped his dagger into the narrow gap between the third and fourth rear rib on his desperate mission," he replied.

She shuddered and replied "Is there an aqueduct in the office above?

"Don't be so bloody silly dear", he said.

"Do you think it was a thud that sounded like a body thudding to the floor?, she replied.

"A bit like that. Maybe I ought to investigate", he said.

He let go of her ears and stood up knocking a half-empty can of John Smith's Extra Smooth (4 for £3.99) over which rolled to the edge of the desk emptying it's contents over the Schedule Chart on the refurbishment project for the Ladies Powder Room Suite which was two weeks behind schedule due to difficulties beyong the Superintendant's control and dribbling the last dregs of the precious liquid down the front of his tailor made trouser front which was somewhat haphazardly arranged anyway.

"I'll be back shortly", he said.

Meanwhile, the good witch Florence Nightingale pondered what to do about the dimensional void. She didn't want Wandel and Spendius to travel through dimensions only to embarrass her.

"What's that?" shouted Joe, "Its dropping all over the notes, it must have ruined ten grands worth there"

Sam turned the press off, he wiped his finger across the notes and stuck it in his mouth; "John Smiths Extra Smooth," I reckon , "£3..99 for four."

"I knew it was a mistake renting this out of the way cellar for printing the readies" sighed Joe "As soon as I saw that Spendius Chucklebottom guy upstairs in his Barbour All-Weather Gamekeeper's Jacket, you know the ones in the sale at C & A £129..99 while stocks lasted, I missed out when I went for one."

"He is a bit strange" Sam muttered, " Have you seen him with that plastic blow up woman, blonde with a big red gob that vibrates when you stick your er finger in?"

"Yep, he sticks it in the car every night, seat belt on her everything according to the rules, I've seen him talking to it as well."

"Did you hear a thud, just before the John Smiths Extra Smooth (£3..99 for four) started leaking in?" asked Joe.

"Hey up" Sam shouted, "He's out back now with an extension ladder up to the window of the office above his, he's wearing that Barbour All Weather Gamekeepers Jacket only £129..99 at C & A , but they've none left."

"Allo allo allo what's going on here then" said Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta,
"Do you mind stopping peering through that window and coming down here right now?"

"What me?" replied Spendius high up on the extension ladder.

"Yes you" answered Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta.

Spendius climbed down, looking furtive and embarrassed; "We heard a thud Sergeant, me and my secretary, it sounded serious, I thought it might be a body falling to the floor."

"Well first of all, let me take down a few particulars," replied Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta, removing his notebook from his breast pocket, complete with small biro.
"Full name Sir,"
"Spendius Chucklebottom"

"Date of birth "

"1st April 1966"

"Oh yes, was that planned or an accident Mr Chucklebottom?" the Sergeant smiled.

"OH please call me Spendi," was the reply

"You said your secretary heard the thud, is she in the office?"

"Oh yes, " replied Spendi, "Please come in, she can verify the thud."

They entered Spendi's office, the blow up doll was on the floor under the desk.

"What on earth is that?" enquired Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta

"It's my secretary Diana," Spendius replied. " We discussed marriage recently, but things became difficult and we are not too sure about it at present, we were going to honeymoon in the Scilly Isles"

Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta reached for his radio, "Assistance and backup, emergency, assistance and backup"

Suddenly there was a flash of light. The dimensional void opened up and Spendius Chucklebottom disappeared -- rescued from his predicament by the good witch Florence Nightingale.

Florence Nightingale summoned Wandel and Spendius. Both were quiet and looked extremely nervous.

"You two are an embarrassment to all witches and sorcerers," Florence told them. "Instead of completely closing the dimensional void, I am asking both of you to voluntarily cease your dimension-traveling. If either of you cause any more trouble, you will face a disciplinary hearing."

Wandel and Spendius shuffled out quietly. Neither had expected to be let off so lightly.

Just then, the Evil Robots attacked! They swept in from a distant land to the north, where no man had ever been due to a mapping glitch that hid the land of the Evil Robots. The Evil Machines rampaged across the land, killing all that stood before them. None could stop them, and their onslaught continued to the ocean. Soon, the whole land was theirs, and they began plans for breeding humans as prey to hunt. They would dominate and control mankind.
But all this took place on a small uncharted island in the Atlantic, and since our school is not there, it has no bearing on the current story.
Or does it . . . ?

Meanwhile back at the offices of Spendi Chucklebottom;-

"What do you mean Sergeant Foxtrot-Lima-Delta, they just disappeared?"

"Well Sir we came in the office, the blow up doll was on the floor under the desk, Mr Chucklebottom said it was his secretary, Diana, and then there was a flash of light, and they were both gone."

"Are you sure it was a blow up doll Sergeant?" enquired the Inspector.

"Well it had a big red gob and it was totally lifeless looking, oh and it's ears were badly swollen and looked as if they had undergone a great amount of pulling on, I suppose Sir"

"We never suppose Sergeant, officers who suppose, never get past the rank of Sergeant, do they Sergeant?" sneered the Inspector.

"What is that writing on the A4 paper on Mr Chucklebottom's desk Sergeant?" enquired the Inspector.

"Looks like doodling Sir, " he muttered as he lifted the A4 off the desk .

"Doodling, looks like an anagram to me," replied the Inspector. "Ah yes, Diana, it's an anagram of Aidan, or is Aidan an anagram of Diana, we had better seal the room Sergeant, put out an all points bulletin on Spendius Chucklebottom and Aidan the blow up doll, or was it Diana the blow up doll, with the distorted ears."

Ah

But Spendius was holed up with only wande and the Evil Witch to distract him from thinking about the World Cup which had reached the quarter-final stages.

"Listen Master!" he whispered cofidentially, forgetting that the Evil Witch could hear a twig snap in a distant forest, "why don't you run down to the shops which are only ten miles away and bring some booze and nosh. It looks like we might be stuck here for a bit and this Florence bint seems in need of a bit a placating and it's me she's been giving the glad-eye to.

The Evil Witch reached down into her handbag which was on the floor beside her dainty feet flashing a generous eye-full in Spendi's direction which he couldn't have failed to notice even had he wanted to which he didn't at this particular time seeing as how She was standing next to a luxurious four-poster Witch-sized bed with black candles burning at all four corners and some halfway along and some that seemed to have been randomly positioned and She took out a wad of twenties which She
handed to wande with a gentle pat on the right buttock cover.

"Run along", She said throatily due to her hackles being racked up a notch or two, " and fetch me some mascara while you're down there."

wande toddled off and disappeared and She pressed the "Play" button on her DVD kit which brought the sounds of Mahler's Fifth swelling into the room and crooked Her forefinger in Spendi's directing as She subsided backwards onto the gold embroidered counterpane with a langorous sigh deep enough to fill the dark spaces behind the moon where new worlds are created with a breath of mystery so profound you could cut it with a cross-cut saw.

Spendi gulped.